sense that
sense that the goddess of death wouldn't have access to that part of the underworld where the truly evil dead were sent. Even psychopathic monsters sometimes died accidentally, or of old age. But then, someone had to judge the dead, and the Norns seemed as likely a candidate as anyone.
"I'd rather not make another detour," I said dryly. "It's nothing personal, but I'd just as soon spend as little time as possible in this world of yours, and I've got other people to call on. So why don't you just give me directions—"
She slammed her fists down on the table. The plate jumped, and the knife clattered to the floor. I'd never seen sparks literally fly out of someone's eyes. . . .
"Impudent little man! I have been patient enough with you!"
The Biter flared wildly green in my hand. I snarled right back, "Going to forswear yourself so soon, lady? Isn't that Odin's specialty?"
She bit down on whatever it was she had been about to say.
The next thing I knew—even before I could take in what had happened—I was standing in a driving sleet storm, dizzy and shivering. The Biter was in my hand; but I was utterly alone outside Hel's miserable hall of death. And all my gear was locked behind doors and walls I could never hope to penetrate.
Chapter Fourteen
For a long moment I stood gaping stupidly at the high, ice-coated wall; then rage swept through me. What actually went through my mind I don't know; but abruptly Gary's knife was glowing even more fiercely in the gloom. I launched myself straight at Hel's tarnished silver gates. The Biter sank deep, cutting a gash downward like a blowtorch. The silver on either side melted and dripped away, freezing an instant later into sharp points and rounded globules.
The Biter cut deeper. Then a ponderous groan reached my ears above the sleet-heavy wind. The gates moved toward
"I'd rather not make another detour," I said dryly. "It's nothing personal, but I'd just as soon spend as little time as possible in this world of yours, and I've got other people to call on. So why don't you just give me directions—"
She slammed her fists down on the table. The plate jumped, and the knife clattered to the floor. I'd never seen sparks literally fly out of someone's eyes. . . .
"Impudent little man! I have been patient enough with you!"
The Biter flared wildly green in my hand. I snarled right back, "Going to forswear yourself so soon, lady? Isn't that Odin's specialty?"
She bit down on whatever it was she had been about to say.
The next thing I knew—even before I could take in what had happened—I was standing in a driving sleet storm, dizzy and shivering. The Biter was in my hand; but I was utterly alone outside Hel's miserable hall of death. And all my gear was locked behind doors and walls I could never hope to penetrate.
Chapter Fourteen
For a long moment I stood gaping stupidly at the high, ice-coated wall; then rage swept through me. What actually went through my mind I don't know; but abruptly Gary's knife was glowing even more fiercely in the gloom. I launched myself straight at Hel's tarnished silver gates. The Biter sank deep, cutting a gash downward like a blowtorch. The silver on either side melted and dripped away, freezing an instant later into sharp points and rounded globules.
The Biter cut deeper. Then a ponderous groan reached my ears above the sleet-heavy wind. The gates moved toward